Caught my reflection in a storefront light
Didn’t look wrong, didn’t look right
Just a film that I’ve watched a hundred times
Where the ending fades before the crime
Tried to call but forgot what to say
Hung up on ghosts from yesterday
There’s a note in my coat from a friend I outgrew
That says “you never let go, but you never hold true”
And I walk through these rooms without names
Where the pictures fall crooked in hand-me-down frames
Every mirror just lies in a softer tone
Like “you’re not too far gone, just too far alone”
All of my heroes died half-awake
With a joke in their throat and a past they faked
I write songs in the cracks of a spiral-bound mind
Then forget every word by the end of the line
And the city don’t change, it just swallows you slow
Til you talk like the traffic and move like the snow
There’s a girl at the corner who hums in the rain
And her voice sounds like mercy—but it might be pain
So I walk through these rooms without names
Tracing dust like it mattered, but I’m just the same
Every truth that I knew now just feels rehearsed
Like a secret I whispered but heard in reverse
And maybe tomorrow I’ll try again
To believe in the sky or remember a friend
But tonight I just sit with the quiet and cold
Fold my thoughts into paper and do what I’m told
I walk through these rooms without names
Where the walls hum the chords of forgotten refrains
And I hum along too, though I don’t know why
Some things you don’t sing, you just sigh